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Description
I want him to be sheltered by roses:
Plants colder and blacker than night,
Crinkled and starless next to his pale cheek,
And put amongst others in white.

I want him to be free of bright lights,
And don't let the wind on his face,
For each soul that passes around his form
Must hear the still sounds of his place.

Let his smooth fingertips remain unmoved,
And bless the chill curve of his toes,
And when gold and blood-red leaves drift to him
Let our reverent breath displace those.

I know he is tucked into dreams of me,
But I did not put him to bed,
So you be sure to plant all those flowers
And keep the cold rain from his head.

And in the evening, when we have all left,
And his white shape glows in the wild,
Leave just one candle, to give him some light,
Because he is still just a child.

Description
I want him to be sheltered by roses:
Plants colder and blacker than night,
Crinkled and starless next to his pale cheek,
And put amongst others in white.

I want him to be free of bright lights,
And don't let the wind on his face,
For each soul that passes around his form
Must hear the still sounds of his place.

Let his smooth fingertips remain unmoved,
And bless the chill curve of his toes,
And when gold and blood-red leaves drift to him
Let our reverent breath displace those.

I know he is tucked into dreams of me,
But I did not put him to bed,
So you be sure to plant all those flowers
And keep the cold rain from his head.

And in the evening, when we have all left,
And his white shape glows in the wild,
Leave just one candle, to give him some light,
Because he is still just a child.